Читать книгу Colton K-9 Bodyguard - Lara Lacombe - Страница 13
ОглавлениеMicah stood frozen in place, too stunned to do much more than blink at Bea as he processed her words.
“You want me to...guard you?” He spoke slowly, hoping that Bea would really listen to his words and see her request for what it was.
A mistake.
She nodded, her expression determined. “That’s right.”
It was the concussion talking—that had to be it. Why else would she want him to protect her? Her letter had made it very clear she was finished with him, so why would she suddenly change her mind?
Micah shook his head. He could worry about her motivations later. Right now, he had to make her see reason.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he began. “We have officers who are more experienced in protection work, including several women. It would be better if you agreed to let one of them guard you. Much easier for everyone involved.”
Bea met his gaze, her hazel eyes clear. “I trust you,” she said simply. “You’re the only one I feel safe with.”
Maybe you shouldn’t, he thought darkly. People had trusted him before, and it had ended badly.
Micah closed his eyes, bracing himself against the onslaught of memories washing over him.
Afghanistan. Helmand Province. Micah and Duke had been deployed with a squad of marines and Afghan army troops to comb through the rubble of a drone attack in search of the bodies of a local Taliban warlord and his cronies. It was supposed to be a training exercise, of sorts, with the Afghan army troops taking the lead in the search while Micah and the marines provided guidance and cover.
Things had started out well enough. Micah and the marines had established a perimeter around the site so the Afghan troops could work in relative safety. It had been shaping up to be just another search, until one of the troops asked Micah for assistance. He and Duke had left their position, and that’s when the ambush had started.
A hail of bullets had erupted with no warning, cutting down several Afghan troops and pinning the marines and Micah in place. The fighting had been brutal and fierce, and several marines had been injured.
Including Duke.
Micah could still hear the dog’s pained yelp and the sounds of his whimpering as he’d lain in the dirt at Micah’s feet.
Unable to bear the dog’s suffering, Micah had slowed his return fire so he could attend to Duke’s injuries. And that’s when the man next to him had been hit.
After an eternity of fighting, reinforcements had arrived and the insurgents had been beaten back or killed. Medics had poured in, attending to the wounded. Duke had been placed on a stretcher and airlifted along with the rest of the injured, Micah by his side the whole way.
In the end, Duke had survived his wound and retired a hero. One of the veterinary nurses who cared for him fell in love with him, and Duke now lived a life of ease with the woman and her family. It was the best possible outcome for the dog, but Micah still couldn’t shake the guilt that plagued him whenever he thought of that day.
If I hadn’t left my position...if I hadn’t stopped to tend to Duke... How many people would still be alive if Micah had made different decisions? How many bodies would have remained whole and unbroken if Micah hadn’t left a gap in the coverage, not once, but twice?
The after-action review had found no fault, but deep in his gut Micah knew things would have turned out differently if he’d made other choices.
With his partner in the hospital, Micah had felt like an amputee. The military had offered to pair him with another dog, but Micah had refused. It took months of intense training to bond with a dog, and Micah didn’t have it in him to go through the experience again. He’d known that if he lost another animal, it would break him.
It turned out that fate had other plans. When he’d taken the job in Red Ridge, the thought of pairing with another dog had worried him. But as soon as he’d met Chunk, his heart had embraced the animal without reservation.
“Micah?” Bea’s voice cut through his thoughts, drawing him back to the present. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
He nodded, shaking off the sadness and despair of his memories. “I’m fine,” he replied. “Just thinking.”
Bea was quiet a moment. “I’m not trying to be difficult,” she said. “And I know this is awkward. But you’re the only one I trust. Will you please work with me?”
Micah let out a heavy sigh. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do it.” He’d probably come to regret his decision, but Micah knew Bea was a stubborn woman. If she said she wouldn’t allow anyone else to guard her, she meant it. And since Micah couldn’t leave her unprotected, he didn’t have many other options.
A sharp knock sounded in the room, and the door swung open. “You’ve been in here long enough,” Fenwick snapped. “I need to see my daughter.”
Micah bit his tongue to keep from responding as Bea’s siblings filed in behind their father. Patience offered him an apologetic glance and reached out to touch Fenwick’s arm.
“Dad,” she said. “We can’t interrupt Micah’s interview. It’s inappropriate.”
“It’s fine,” Fenwick said. “Anything Bea has to say, she can say in front of us.”
“I’m done for now,” Micah said. He turned to Bea. “I’ll start making the necessary arrangements.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Arrangements for what?” Fenwick sounded irate. “I can take care of anything you need. There’s no reason he should be involved.”
Bea glanced at her father, and Micah recognized the glint of steel in her eyes. Oh, boy, he thought. Things are about to get interesting.
“Micah is going to act as my protection until this case is closed,” she said calmly. “We agreed it was the best course of action, given the circumstances.”
“What?” Fenwick’s face turned an unhealthy-looking shade of purple, and Micah eyed the emergency call button on the wall. It wouldn’t surprise him if the older man had a rage stroke on the spot.
“You heard me,” Bea said calmly. If she was upset by her father’s reaction, she didn’t show it. Then again, she’d been dealing with the man her entire life. She’d probably learned a few tricks for handling him in that time.
Apparently, her siblings had, as well. They moved forward as a group, each one speaking in low, soothing tones as they circled their father.
Fenwick ignored them, his gaze locked on Bea. “Absolutely not,” he said in a low voice. “I forbid it.”
Bea arched one eyebrow. “I wasn’t asking for your permission.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Fenwick’s voice softened, as if he were speaking to a child. “You’ve had a bad scare and a nasty bump on the head. You’re not thinking rationally.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Bea replied.
Her father tried another tack. “I can arrange for you to have a bodyguard, if that will make you feel better. I’ll even get you set up in a temporary apartment. Let’s just talk this over like two adults, and I’m sure we can figure out a way to keep you safe without making any...rash decisions.”
“Dad—” Patience tried to interject, but Fenwick waved his daughter away.
“This is between me and your sister,” he said firmly.
Bea sighed heavily. “No, it isn’t. There’s nothing for us to discuss. I can see you’re upset, but I’ve made up my mind and I’m not going to change it. Accept it or don’t—I really don’t care either way.”
Admiration swelled in Micah’s chest, and for a moment, he was proud of Bea for standing up to her father. She’d always had an independent streak, but back when they were dating, she’d sometimes had trouble going against her father’s wishes. That didn’t seem to be the case anymore, and Micah was happy to see Bea wasn’t living under Fenwick’s thumb.
Fenwick straightened his shoulders. “I’m going to pretend your insolence is due to your injuries,” he said stiffly.
Bea shrugged. “Okay.”
Patience placed her hand on her father’s arm, and one of her sisters did the same on Fenwick’s other side. “Let’s go,” Patience said softly. “Bea needs her rest.”
Fenwick shook off the touch of his children and straightened his tie. “Yes, I’m sure she does.” He smoothed a hand over his suit jacket, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Bea’s forehead. “I’ll check on you later. I expect you’ll be back to yourself by then.”
Without another word, Fenwick turned on his heel and stalked out the door. The room seemed to deflate after he left, the tension dropping dramatically in the wake of his exit. As if responding to some invisible signal, Bea’s siblings moved as a group to surround her bed. They began talking to her in low, soothing tones, and Micah could tell by the way Bea’s features relaxed that she was happy to see her sisters.
He moved quietly toward the door, wanting to give the family some privacy. The thought that Fenwick might be lurking in the hallway gave him pause, but he cast off the concern and left the room. He’d actually rather face the mayor than infringe on Bea’s time with her siblings.
Fortunately, the older man was nowhere to be found, so Micah finally had a moment’s peace to think.
He walked over to the small waiting area just down the hall from Bea’s room and sat, his mind racing. How in the world was he going to protect Bea when there was so much left unsaid between them? He knew from experience how dangerous it was to be distracted on a mission, and he wasn’t sure he could simply set aside his emotions where Bea was concerned. Could he stand to be around her, knowing his heart had never really moved on?
But could he risk saying no? Bea had made it very clear she’d only cooperate if he acted as her protection. If he didn’t at least try to push his emotions aside, Bea wouldn’t have anyone looking out for her.
The thought of Bea in the crosshairs of the Groom Killer was enough to strengthen Micah’s resolve. Right now, she was the best lead they had in this case, and he owed it to the people of Red Ridge to do whatever he could to bring the Groom Killer to justice. If that meant spending time with Bea, then that’s what he would do.
Hopefully his heart would understand.
* * *
Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, after all...
An orderly had helped Bea into a wheelchair and had taken her as far as the hospital entrance. Micah had taken it from there, pushing her through the dark parking lot and over to his car.
“Almost there,” he said quietly.
The evening air was cool, and she could feel his body heat at her back, enveloping her like a comforting blanket. The hospital had planted rose bushes around the building, and their perfume filled the air. But Bea could still smell Micah’s scent—warm, male skin, some kind of woodsy soap and the barest hint of laundry detergent. It filled her head and made her feel soft inside.
Am I really going to be able to handle being around him 24/7?
It was something she should have thought about before she’d made her knee-jerk decision. But when Micah had told her she was a possible target of the Groom Killer, she’d acted out of fear. Micah had always made her feel safe, and that hadn’t changed in the years since they’d been apart. Her insistence on his being the one to guard her was an instinctive reaction, and she hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences for her heart.
It’s just a job to him, she reminded herself. Micah had only agreed to protect her because he was working on the Groom Killer case. As long as Bea remembered that, she might be able to get through this with her dignity intact.
“Here we are.” Micah stopped next to a dark SUV, and Bea noticed the windows were down. “Let me get you settled in the front, and then I’ll take care of Chunk.”
“Chunk?” Bea echoed. But as soon as Micah opened the passenger door, she understood.
A basset hound was curled up on the backseat, looking quite at home in a nest of blankets. “Oh, hello,” she said, a little surprised at the unexpected sight.
The dog lifted his head and regarded her curiously. He sniffed at the air and, apparently finding her harmless, laid his head back down on his paws.
Micah helped Bea to stand. “That’s my partner,” he explained as he guided her into the passenger seat.
Bea was so distracted by the dog she was surprised by the feel of Micah’s hands on her skin. Even though there was nothing personal about his touch, her body still responded, sending sparks down her limbs.
“I didn’t know you worked with a dog.”
“Yep.” Micah pulled the seatbelt out for her, and she buckled herself in. “I’m with the K-9 Unit. Chunk’s a cadaver dog, trained to find bodies. He’s actually the one who found you.”
Bea frowned. “But I’m not dead.”
A shadow crossed Micah’s face, barely visible in the glow of the streetlight. “No, thankfully you’re not.” He shook his head, as if to cast off a bad mood. “Chunk is actually trained to detect blood, so sometimes he’ll find a victim who is still alive. Like you.” He offered her a tight smile before shutting the door.
Bea twisted around to regard the dog as Micah opened the back door. “Then I guess you’re the one I really need to thank,” she said.
Chunk lifted his head again, his dark brown eyes gentle. He turned to nose Micah, who was busy dumping a bowl of kibble into a storage bin. “Has he been here all evening?”
“Yeah,” Micah responded, turning to dump out a bowl of water. “He’s used to hanging out in the SUV if I go somewhere that isn’t too dog friendly.”
“Aren’t you worried about him getting too hot?”
“Not in this weather,” Micah said. “It’s still cool enough that when I park in the shade with the windows down he does okay. I don’t leave him alone if it’s warm outside. It’s not worth the risk.” He stretched his arm out, handing her something small. “Here. He’s usually pretty friendly, but if you give him this he’ll be your best friend forever.”
Bea glanced at the object to find Micah had passed her a dog treat. She laughed softly. “Fair enough.” She reached into the backseat, extending the gift. Chunk took one sniff and leaned forward, retrieving the biscuit from her hand in one surprisingly delicate bite. His breath was humid on her hand, and he gave her a quick swipe with his tongue as if to say thanks.
Micah climbed behind the steering wheel and started the engine. “Ready?”
Bea wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or the dog, so she answered for the both of them. “Yes.”
He put the truck in gear, then stopped and turned to her with a worried look. “Uh, you’re not allergic to dogs, are you?”
“No,” she replied.
Relief flashed across his face and he returned his attention to driving. “That’s good,” he said. “I hadn’t thought to ask you about it before.”
“I take it Chunk is your roommate?”
“Something like that,” Micah said, turning on to the main street in front of the hospital. “Mostly, though, I’m more like his servant.” He didn’t sound like he was bothered by this arrangement, and Bea smiled.
“Sounds like a good deal for Chunk.” She glanced back at the dog, who was stretched out on the seat again. He was longer than she’d expected, but then again, Bea had never been around a basset hound before.
“Trust me, he’s got nothing to complain about.”
“Except for maybe his name,” Bea remarked. “Chunk isn’t a very dignified name.”
The dog in question snorted, as if agreeing with her.
“Well, that’s more of a nickname,” Micah said. “His given name is Chase, but no one ever calls him that.”
“Too bad,” Bea said. “It’s a nice name.”
“It is,” Micah agreed. “But you have to admit, he is a little...stout.”
“That’s hardly his fault,” she protested.
Micah laughed softly. “You don’t have to defend him to me,” he said. “I love the guy. And if I thought his nickname actually hurt his feelings, I wouldn’t use it. But believe it or not, he won’t answer to Chase. He only responds to Chunk.”
The dog snorted again, confirming his master’s words.
“How long have you two worked together?” She was genuinely curious, and Micah’s relationship with Chunk seemed like a fairly safe topic of conversation.
“Almost two years. I was partnered with him right after I joined the force.”
“Did you always know you wanted to have a dog as a partner?” It wasn’t the usual career path for a police officer, but then again, Red Ridge was known for its K-9 police unit and dog training center, courtesy of her father’s money. It was one of the more unselfish things Fenwick had done, and if it hadn’t been for her mother’s insistence, he probably wouldn’t have even considered it.
Micah was quiet, and for a moment Bea wondered if he was going to answer the question. She didn’t think it was too personal, but perhaps he didn’t want to talk about his motivations for joining the K-9 squad. “I actually worked with a dog while I was in the Army Rangers. His name was Duke, and he was a German shepherd.”
“Was?” She picked up on the past tense of the word, and her stomach tightened. Had something happened to the dog? No wonder Micah didn’t want to discuss it...
“Duke was shot during an ambush. Fortunately, he survived, and one of the veterinary nurses who took care of him adopted him.”
Bea breathed a sigh of relief at hearing the dog was okay. “That must have been really difficult, seeing him injured like that.”
“Yeah.” Micah swallowed hard. “It was one of the lowest moments of my life.”
Silence fell over them, and Bea could have kicked herself for pressing for more information. So much for keeping the conversation light and easy.
Bea searched for something to say but came up empty. She wished they could go back to the easy back-and-forth of a moment ago, but she couldn’t think of another topic of conversation to try. So she remained quiet, figuring it was better to say nothing at all than to blurt out something she’d come to regret.
Micah seemed comfortable with the silence, and she had to wonder if maybe he preferred it to talking to her. After all, he’d left her once before. He probably would have been happy to carry on without her in his life, but she’d forced her way back in, if only for a little while.
The thought had her second-guessing her decision once more, and she shifted in the seat. “How long do you think this will last?”
Micah lifted one shoulder in a shrug as he considered her question. “I’m not sure. Maybe a few days. Possibly longer than that.”
Bea frowned, turning to look out the window so he wouldn’t catch her expression. While a part of her was uncomfortable with the idea of spending so much time with Micah, a larger part insisted she stay with him. It didn’t make sense, but with the rest of her world in such chaos, she wanted—no, needed—the comfort of the familiar. And even though she and Micah had spent a lot of time apart, she still felt like she knew him. He was a safe port in this storm, and she wasn’t strong enough to pretend otherwise.
“I’m going to keep you safe,” he said quietly. “I know things are...different...between us, but I won’t let you get hurt again.”
“I know,” she said, turning back to offer him a small smile. “I trust you, Micah. That’s why I was so insistent in the hospital.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but apparently thought better of it. He cleared his throat, instead, leaving her wondering what he’d left unsaid.
“Micah?”
“We’re almost home,” he said, dodging her implicit question.
Bea leaned back against the headrest, knowing better than to pry. It was only natural he was quiet around her. They were still getting used to seeing each other again.
He turned onto a graveled drive, and she glanced out the window at the trees that dotted the landscape. It wasn’t until they were halfway down the drive that she realized she knew where they were headed because she’d been there before.
“This might be my concussion talking, but are we going to your aunt’s house?”
Micah gave her a fleeting smile. “Yeah. At least, it was her house. She left it to me after she died.”
Bea vaguely remembered reading the woman’s obituary in the local paper several years ago. Micah had still been deployed, and she’d meant to go to the funeral to pay her respects. But something had come up, and she hadn’t made it to the service.
“I was sorry to hear of her passing.”
“Thank you.” He was quiet a moment as they crunched along the drive. “It was rough on me, losing her. We were close, and I hated not being able to come home to see her before she died.”
Bea hadn’t known the woman had been sick until the announcement of her death. Micah’s Aunt Wanda had been a friendly yet private woman, and like many other people her age, she had had her pride. It would never have occurred to her to ask for help, and Bea felt a little stab of guilt for not checking on her while Micah was away.
“I’m sure she understood,” Bea said. “I know she was very proud of you.” Bea wasn’t just trying to make Micah feel better. She’d spent some time with Aunt Wanda when she and Micah had dated, and the woman’s love for her nephew had been obvious enough for a blind man to see. Micah’s aunt hadn’t been able to have children of her own, so she was practically a second mother to Micah, especially after his own had died when he was only twelve.
Bea reached out in the darkness of the truck and laid her hand on his forearm. He jumped, clearly startled by her touch. But a second later his hand slid over hers, large and warm and a little rough against her skin.
For a moment, Bea allowed herself to pretend they were still a couple, headed home after a nice evening out in Red Ridge. She pictured a gold band on her hand, his matching ring glinting in the moonlight shining through the driver’s side window. Their kids would be tucked into bed by now, the sitter watching something on TV with the volume down low. They’d walk into the house and Chunk would rise from his bed in the kitchen to greet them and beg for a treat. They’d pay the babysitter and check on the kids, one boy and one girl, then head to their bedroom and make love before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
It was an image that made her heart ache. How different her life would have been, if only Micah hadn’t changed his mind. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him why, but the idea of having that conversation was overwhelming, especially with her current headache.
A moment later, Micah pulled into the paved driveway and parked the truck under a large carport. He killed the engine, then turned to Bea. “Wait here,” he said softly. “I’ll come around to help you out.”
Bea nodded, grateful for his offer. She was still a little unsteady on her feet, and it bothered her to feel so weak. Her doctor had assured her it was normal, and told her the sensation would soon pass. Bea hoped he was right—she couldn’t very well spend the next few days literally leaning on Micah whenever she needed to walk somewhere.
Micah hopped out of the truck and opened the back door. Bea heard a scraping sound and looked back to see he’d dragged a small ramp across the concrete, fitting it against the seat. Chunk waited until his master pointed to the ramp and then scampered down with slightly more grace than Bea had expected. Once his paws hit the ground, Micah pulled the ramp away from the truck and shut the door.
Man and dog rounded the hood together and came to stand by the passenger door. Bea felt a little self-conscious being the focus of so much attention, but as soon as Micah touched her hand the sensation fled. He helped her slide out of the truck and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they started down the short walk to the front door. Chunk fell into step on Bea’s other side so she was flanked by the two males. Even though Chunk’s head only came up to her knee, Bea knew he would do everything in his power to help keep her steady, and she felt a surge of affection for the dog. She’d never really considered herself an animal person before, but she might have to make an exception for Chunk.
The house was orderly, but a thin veneer of dust on some of the tables was a testament to Micah’s workload. He led her down the main hallway to a bedroom in the back of the house and indicated a chair in the corner of the room. Bea sat, Chunk at her feet, while Micah quickly stripped the bed and put on fresh linens.
Bea glanced around, trying to determine if this was Micah’s room or simply a guest room. She wasn’t about to displace him from his own bed.
She didn’t see any personal effects in the room, but Micah had always been tidy, and his time in the army had probably reinforced the habit. A few pictures hung on the walls, framed shots of sunrises and sunsets in a desert, the sky a kaleidoscope of oranges and pinks and reds that looked too intense to be real. “These photos are gorgeous,” she said.
Micah glanced up and smiled. “Thanks. I took them while I was on deployment. Photography was kind of a hobby for me then.”
“What about now?” Bea was no art critic, but based on those shots it seemed like Micah had real talent. It would be a shame for him to let it lie dormant.
He shrugged as he folded an extra blanket and placed it at the foot of the bed. “I don’t get out with my camera as much as I used to. There just hasn’t been time.”
“That’s too bad,” she remarked. “Hopefully after you close the Groom Killer case your schedule will go back to normal.”
“That would be nice,” Micah said. “You’re all set in here. Let me show you the bathroom, and I’ll grab a spare T-shirt and some flannel pants for you to sleep in tonight.”
For the first time, Bea realized she didn’t have any of her clothes or toiletries. “Do you think we can stop by my place tomorrow so I can pack a bag?” she asked as she followed him down the hallway again.
“No problem.” Micah showed her the bathroom and placed some clean towels and a few sample containers of soap, shampoo and toothpaste on the counter, along with a travel-size toothbrush that was still in its original wrapper.
“Thank you,” she said, touched by his willingness to welcome her into his home. Would she have been so gracious if the shoe had been on the other foot? “I’m not staying in your bedroom, am I? I don’t want you to give up your bed for me.”
Micah shook his head. “You’re in the guest room. I’m just down the hall, across from you.” He studied her face. “You look tired.” It wasn’t a compliment, but his voice was kind. “Are you hungry? I can fix a sandwich or heat a can of soup if you’d like something to eat.”
Bea hadn’t eaten since lunch, but the thought of food made her stomach roll. “No, thanks. I think I’d rather just wash up and go to bed, if that’s okay with you.”
The corner of Micah’s mouth curved up. “You don’t have to keep me entertained,” he said. “We’ll leave you to it, then. Holler at me if you need anything.” He and Chunk backed out of the room and into the hall.
“Thank you,” Bea called out. He acknowledged her words with a wave of his hand as he and the dog walked toward the kitchen. Bea closed the door and turned to the sink, wincing as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.
A large bandage dominated her forehead, a few spots of red bright on the white gauze. She poked gingerly at the area, but it was still numb from the injections the doctor had administered before he’d stitched her up.
“That’s going to hurt in the morning,” she muttered. And it wasn’t going to be pretty, either. But she’d take a gash on the head over being dead any day.
It didn’t take long to carefully splash water on her face and brush her teeth. A few minutes later, Bea stepped out into the hall and made her way back to the guest bedroom.
A folded shirt and pair of pants had been set on the bed, and for a moment, Bea could only stare at them. She had no doubt they’d fit her—actually, given Micah’s size, his clothes would be quite large on her. But the idea of wearing his shirt gave her pause. It was such an intimate act—the kind of thing lovers did without a second thought. Once upon a time, she would have slipped on his shirt without hesitation. Now she wasn’t so sure...
She didn’t have many other options, though. She couldn’t sleep in her clothes; she had to wear them again tomorrow and didn’t want to wrinkle them too badly. And sleeping nude was out of the question. With her luck, the smoke alarm would go off in the middle of the night and she’d spring from bed, forgetting her lack of clothes.
There was no help for it. She was going to have to wear Micah’s shirt.
Bea undressed and draped her clothes across the back of the chair. Then she tugged the gray shirt over her head.
As she’d thought, it was large on her, the hem falling midway to her knees and the sleeves ending past her elbows. It was also incredibly soft and smelled strongly of Micah’s detergent. She took a deep breath before she could stop herself, savoring the scent she’d always associated with him.
The sheets were cool as she slid into bed, and for the first time since her attack, Bea’s body relaxed completely, sinking into the embrace of the soft mattress. Bea normally had trouble falling asleep in a new place, but that wasn’t going to be a problem tonight. She turned onto her side and wrapped her arms around herself, breathing in the comforting scent of the man she loved as exhaustion claimed her.
